


sisyphus

by spock



Category: Westworld (TV)
Genre: Banter, Episode: s01e05 Contrapasso, Hand & Finger Kink, Implied First Time, M/M, Mild Breathplay, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Praise Kink, Opposites Attract, Pre-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25329238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spock/pseuds/spock
Summary: Life finds a way.
Relationships: Felix Lutz/Ashley Stubbs
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5
Collections: Little Black Dress Exchange 2020





	sisyphus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [days4daisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/gifts).



In the interest of facilitating better communication amongst the various divisions in the Mesa, Cullen's started scheduling mandatory cross-departmental meetings at various points in the day. 

Stubbs finds them to be utterly, endlessly tedious. 

He half-listens to her finish a point, something about increased opportunities for development within the company, Delos's longlasting commitment and interest in allowing employees to cross-train, and can't stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

Laughter, muffled, and too-low for anyone but Stubbs to hear comes from across the room, unexpected and out of place given the circumstances. Stubbs looks and finds one of the Bodyshop technicians watching him. Realizing that Stubbs has noticed him, his eyes drop to the floor, lips rolling into his mouth. Cullen calls for everyone to return to their stations, the meeting done. He's the first one out the doors of the conference room they'd all been packed into, down the hallway in a flash. 

Interesting.

—

Stubbs is called upon to investigate a disturbance out by the Olvido. It ends up being a Guest out of her mind on Genre, roaming around the edge of the river, tweaking under the assumption that she's fallen through a time warp.

She's fairly built. 

Stubbs has handled worse. 

Still, Guests require a different protocol than the Hosts. Stubbs wastes ten minutes trying to talk her down, each second cataloged in his mind. Once the eleventh minute rolls over he’s quick to close the distance between them and manages to subdue her in under two, holding back his strength and being careful not to do any damage. It leaves him a little beat up in the process.

He calls for his team once he’s got her zip-tied and sitting far enough from the river’s edge that she can’t make a break for it. They extract the Guest, loading her onto one of the Can-Am's and driving her back to Sweetwater. Stubbs opts to walk back to the access elevator by himself. He calls the Arrivals team and grills them for not screening Guest belongings as well as they're meant to. He knows it's pointless. Likely the woman is important; a relative of a board member, perhaps, if not an actual member herself. 

All extraction elevators deposit into Livestock. Bernard is there when Stubbs steps off, talking to a subordinate. It's unexpected, chained to Behavior as Bernard usually is. He sees Stubbs and frowns, dismissing the technician he'd been speaking to. 

"You want me to call a medic?" he asks. 

"What, this?" Stubbs touches the backs of his knuckles right to the edge of the scratches he knows are on his cheek. "It's nothing. You really want to make a call, tell Cullen she's got to do something about screening."

Bernard's expression tells Stubbs everything he needs to know about the likelihood of that suggestion making its way up the chain. He snorts and waves Bernard off, going into one of the restrooms lining this section of hallway. The mirror there allows him to appraise the damage to his face, such as it is. He can feel bruises rising to the surface of his ribs, the woman's elbows finding the gaps in his protective vest. 

He reaches behind himself, tugging the vest over his head and then removing the shirt under it. There's a reflex trigged in him to hiss, wince. He bites it down, unwilling to perform the facsimile of pain when there's no one around to observe it. He twists and finds that some of the nettle that grows alongside the riverbank has managed to slip beneath his shirt and embed onto the flesh of his shoulders, leaving them slightly red, irritated. 

The door opens, a tech walking in. It's the same one who had amused himself with Stubbs' visible discontent a week before. Their gaze meets in the reflection of the mirror and his eyes go wide as saucers. 

"Oh my gosh," he says. "I'm so sorry." 

He turns and tries to leave but Stubbs calls out to stop him before he does. "Hey." 

Stubbs isn't sure why he does it. He turns and twists to lean against the counter, looking at the tech outright rather than through the mirror. "You ever patched up somebody with a social security number?"

The tech trips over himself to turn back around. "Uh," he says, inelegantly. His eyes focus on Stubbs' chest before bouncing up to meet Stubbs' eyes again. They stare at one another for a heavy moment. The tech can't seem to help himself, eyes dropping down again. "In here?"

Stubbs grabs his clothes from the counter and walks to stand beside the tech at the door. "Lead the way."

They get a couple looks, Stubbs shirtless and following him the hallway. The tech's shoulders are up around his ears, back a line of tension under the eerie plastic gown of his uniform. 

Stubbs has thought about this before. What things might've been like in another life. 

Repair techs are kept on loops of their own. Familiar units, assigned rooms — all of it designed with the Hosts in mind, a routine even here, so that they aren't prompted to question the nature of even this reality. It helps keep service time within metrics too, techs knowing the bodies of their assignments as well as their own, able to apply makeup, scars, tattoos, all manner of unique characteristics to the newly constructed bodies without much thought and a quick turn-around window. 

The tech only seems comfortable once he has Stubbs sitting on a work slab. He gets a med-pak from out of his locker, more precise than any of the tech they use on Hosts. 

It'll work just fine on Stubbs. His is a loop that is intentionally divergent, unlike the rest of the staff; it's rare that Stubbs faces the same two crises in a day. 

He's made to adapt. 

The tech dabs iodine gently onto Stubbs' cheeks, cotton ball pinched between his fingers. Stubbs watches his face as he works, the frequent movement of his eyes. 

"Don't you see naked men every day?" Stubbs asks, amused. He hardly counts as naked, merely shirtless as he is, but you wouldn’t be able to tell that from the twitchy way the tech is acting. The pressure on his cheek increases. This time Stubbs does allow himself to hiss, sucking in air through his teeth at the burn. 

"Shit, sorry!" The tech pulls back, lightly touching Stubbs' cheek with his pinky and ring finger, other hand hovering to the side of Stubbs' face, close enough that Stubbs can feel the warmth of his skin. 

He sets the cotton ball down onto a tray and picks up the regenerator pen, all the insecurity that had been in him earlier gone, a man back in his element. Silence fills the room, only muffled sounds coming from beyond as techs escort Hosts through the hallway. 

The tech takes Stubbs by the chin abruptly, turning Stubbs’ head to the right. His touch is tacky, clammy in his suddenly renewed nervousness. It's clear he isn't as comfortable with silence as Stubbs is, and it comes as no surprise when he breaks it. "They don't make Hosts that look like you." 

It hangs between them for a moment. 

Stubbs huffs out a laugh, careful not to alter the tilt of his head, unused to the sensation. The emotion.

"Oh my god." For all that his mortification is spread across his face, so obvious it might as well be spelled out in code, his hand his steady with the pen, leaving Stubbs as good as new, without a trace of his earlier encounter. 

The tech's name is Lutz. 

Stubbs knows the name of each and every Host in the park, all the staff working within the Mesa. 

It's his job to. 

"What's your name?" Stubbs asks. 

Eyes meet his. "Felix."

Stubbs blinks, he opens his mouth —

Felix groans. "Ugh, don't. It's embarrassing." He sets the pen down on the table suspended next to them and picks up another cotton ball, dipping it into the dish of iodine. His hand settles on the Stubbs' shoulder, tilting his body forward, drawing the skin on his back taut. "I know yours. Obviously."

Stubbs grins. 

He can't remember the last time he did more than smirk.

"No taking it back now, Felix," he says. 

Felix groans. "I'm just...not going to talk anymore."

—

Stubbs isn't one to take lunch. Bernard does, and it's why Stubbs has ventured into the cafeteria in search of him. A quick sweep of the room indicates that Bernard is elsewhere, likely with Cullen.

Ford won't be pleased. 

Off to the side of the room sits Felix, alone, tapping away at the tablet next to his bowl of salad. Stubbs is sitting down across from him before he's even processed the decision to do so, asking, "You thinking about transferring into Behavior?" 

"What?" Felix sweeps the tablet off the table and into his lap in a display of reflexes Stubbs wouldn't have guessed Felix possessed. "No."

Humor wars with curiosity within him, a first. He decides to let amusement win out. "I don't actually give that much of a shit, kid."

Felix frowns. "I'm older than you." 

Stubbs rests his chin on his hand, staring at Felix. "Now how do you know that?" 

Despite the blush, something seems to resolve itself behind Felix's eyes. The set of his shoulders firms up, and his voice loses its usual questioning throughline. "There's a bio for all departmental directors."

"Maybe I lied on it."

Felix rolls his eyes, picking up his fork. "And nobody thought to double-check or fix it?"

"You'd be surprised." 

Felix frows at him, assessing. He pushes his bowl into the middle of the table, holding the fork out between them. "Here."

Stubbs takes the fork and twists the noodles around the tines, bringing them to his mouth to take a bite. It's not bad. "Didn't know the kitchen staff had this on the menu."

"How would you even know?" Felix asks. "I've worked here three years and have literally never seen you in step foot here before." Stubbs takes another bite as Felix continues, "Are you even on lunch? Why haven't you got anything to eat?"

He passes the fork back to Felix, grabbing the glass of water at Felix's elbow and draining it in one pull. 

Felix stares at him when he sets the glass back down. "Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of a dick?"

Stubbs smirks at him. "You might say it's my defining attribute."

The fork hovers in front of Felix's mouth, his eyes flicking up to stare at Stubbs. "As long as you're self-aware about it, I guess," he says, and then stuffs another forkful into his mouth. "I bring my own lunch," Felix says, after he's finished swallowing. "Are you seriously not going to get anything?" 

"What?" Stubbs reaches between them and takes the fork from Felix's grip, more for the offended noise Felix squeaks out than for a real desire to consume his food. "I can't spend time with a colleague while he eats?"

Felix watches him chew. "I thought for a second there you were gonna say friend and nearly had a stroke." 

Stubbs holds the fork between them, wiggling it in the air when Felix is slow to take it back. "Oh, I dunno." He watches Felix take another bite, chewing. "I wouldn't categorize what we're doing friendship; would you?"

Felix chokes.

—

Stubbs performs a walk-through of the Mesa at the end of his shift each day. It's for the benefit of everyone else, mostly; a symbolic gesture. Stubbs' plans for the night are to return to his room in the Executive Suite and log right into the security feed to keep an eye on Delta shift as they get settled into their work for the night.

It's on the Admin level that Stubbs runs into him. Felix is dressed in his street clothes, looking comfortable and so out of place amongst the corporate backdrop of the offices surrounding them. Stubbs hasn't seen him in a little over a week, not counting all the times he's glanced at Felix through security footage. 

"Oh," Felix says. "Hey—" He trails off, and they both look at one another uncomfortably, keenly aware that they aren't alone. They're already starting to get looks, confused glances. Stubbs hadn't considered the differences in their positions until now. Other members of various departments walk past them in droves, eager to catch the train that should be departing in ten minutes. Felix will miss it if he doesn't hurry. 

"Uh. Hi, Mr. Stubbs, sir." Felix finishes. 

The awkwardness between them intensifies. Stubbs isn't sure that he's ever felt an emotion quite this much before. It's — 

"I," Felix starts, right as Stubbs says, "Let's—"

They both stop. Felix laughs, quietly and to himself. Stubbs feels himself smirking. He's never been the type to have relationships, wasn't built for it. Still, it feels like something resembling just that has grown between the two of them, a shared understanding passing through their gaze. 

"Are you done for the day?" Felix asks.

He sounds almost hopeful. Stubbs blinks. "Not yet," he says, the awkwardness returning, unsure of how to navigate the particular realities of what Felix can never know. Stubbs wasn't built for this, he thinks. "You know how it is."

Felix is visibly disappointed. Stubbs finds that he doesn't care for it, mind already coming up with solutions for the problem, workarounds. It's what he does. Which is why it's surprising when Felix beats him to the obvious solution by asking, "Maybe — whenever you don't have to work late, we could do dinner or something?"

"Sure," Stubbs answers too-quick, something in his brain overriding the considerations he's still working through. "Absolutely."

—

"I need clearance to leave the park."

Ford looks up for the first time since Stubbs has entered the room, his eyebrows shooting up. "Oh well, that's certainly interesting." He rises from his chair and picks up a tablet, walking over to where Stubbs is standing in front of Ford's desk. "You've never asked to do something like that before."

Stubbs follows him with his eyes. "Some of the staff have noticed that I never seem to leave."

"Have they?" Ford frowns at the tablet. 

The thing about Stubbs is that he's always been Arnold's guy. His position required a degree of finesse that Ford hadn't been able to attain, a level of autonomy that he frankly still doesn't care for. Arnold had understood that, had known what type of person would suit the role. And in that, he had found Stubbs. 

With Arnold gone, there had only been Ford to give instruction and Stubbs to interpret, to see it done. They make it work, as best they can.

"I suppose it must be hard for you," Ford says. "Not having a cornerstone to guide you." 

Stubbs doesn't let himself react. Its harder for Ford to make it work, most days. Frustrating for him not to see the patterns and logic of what Stubbs does. "Not especially," Stubbs answers, after a minute or so of silence. "You seem to be doing fine."

Ford's eyes narrow as he looks up from the tablet to Stubbs' face. "Who's to say I haven't got one of my own?" Stubbs supposes it's a fair assessment, although if this is where the guilt over Arnold's demise has led him, Stubbs has to admit he can't see the logic in it any better than Ford seems to have a read on him. "Anyhow, I suppose there's nothing for it. A moral code with a healthy degree of flux isn't exactly a life's purpose."

He sets down the tablet and leans back to sit on the edge of his desk, taking Stubbs in. "What will you do out there, I wonder?" 

Stubbs considers that. "The same shit I get up to in here, I guess." 

Ford laughs. "Now _that_ I believe."

—

Stubbs waits in departures, standing underneath the CCTV camera perpendicular to the stairs where he knows from experience that he'll be able to see the faces of everyone as they make their way down onto the platform. His security clearance being what it is, it was easy for Stubbs to abuse his power to see what time Felix's shift was set to end, and so he waits, counting the seconds in his head until, finally, Felix's face appears at the top of the stairs.

He expects Felix to catch sight of him. The smirk on his face drops into a frown when Felix walks right past him without so much as a second glance. Stubbs follows after him, stopping at his back when Felix reaches the platform, waiting for the train. Leaning over Felix's shoulder, Stubbs says, "You need to get better at accessing your surroundings." 

"Holy Christ!" Felix's shoulders jump up to his ears as his body seizes up. It's a counter-productive reflex that has his him jolting backward, connecting with Stubbs' chest. His chin tips up, looking at Stubbs behind him. "Can't you do anything like a normal person!?"

"Not really," Stubbs says, not moving back from Felix's space. "Train's here." He nods at the track. "You still up for dinner?" 

They end up sitting side by side, Felix taking the window. Stubbs tries not to be too obvious in his staring, taking in the world as it comes into view and races past them, Felix in front of it all.

Felix is quiet only until he isn't. "So are we just not going to talk at all?" he asks. When Stubbs doesn't answer him, he carries on, "Why'd you decide to work for Delos?"

"Dunno," Stubbs says. "Seemed like I was made for it, I guess."

Felix nods. "Have you always been in security?" 

He doesn't have to think about it. "Since day one."

"Never wanted to move?" Felix sounds almost surprised. "You seem to hold your own with Mr. Lowe well enough. It's not like you're stupid or anything."

He snorts. "Nah, I know my place." He knocks his knee against Felix's. "You really going to try for Behavior?"

Felix goes shy, all of a sudden. "I dunno. I want to."

Stubbs looks him in the eye and says, "So do it." 

He's never understood it, people holding themselves back when they're the ones holding the leash. 

A voice comes on from overhead, announcing that they've reached the mainland and can depart. Stubbs takes it all in rapidly, not knowing what to do next and not liking the newness of the feeling. The uncertainty. "So where are we going?"

Felix gives him a confused look. "What?" Stubbs asks, feeling defensiveness rise in him, another first. "You're the one that asked me out."

The look changes into something else. The walkway next to Stubbs fills with passengers heading to the exit. After a moment Felix says, "You're," the word hangs for a moment, as if he’s weighing what he wants to say next, "kind of the worst."

A sudden reflex to laugh startles Stubbs into doing just that. Felix does as well, seeming just as surprised. "No, I'm serious. You suck."

Stubbs feels something resettle inside of him, anxiety gone. "Too late for buyer's remorse now; you've gotta feed me. I clocked out and everything for this." 

Felix follows him out onto the platform, hand squeezing at the strap of his bag on his shoulder. "I was planning on cooking tonight." He looks embarrassed. Stubbs can't imagine why, and finds himself wanting to alleviate whatever the issue might be. 

"Even better," he finds himself saying as he looks around for a rideshare, familiarity blooming inside of his mind, working through the problem. "I can't remember the last time I had someone cook for me."

—

Felix's apartment is a mess.

Well, moreso — 

"Don't even think about saying anything," Felix says. "Just sit out here and don't get in my way."

Stubbs ignore the command, footsteps quiet with his shoes off and neatly stored beside the door. He follows Felix into the kitchen and compromises by keeping himself to the doorway for all of a minute as he watches Felix wash his hands at the sink. Felix has taken his shoes off as well, and his feet are bright spots against the dark wood floor. Stubbs comes up from behind and crowds against him, saying, "What if I told you I wasn't hungry?"

It's easy to get Felix sat up on the counter, legs wrapped around Stubbs' waist. Stubbs has never been the type that people have looked at and wanted to kiss, but you wouldn't know that by the way Felix practically pours himself into Stubbs' mouth, bringing up feelings of desire in Stubbs that he's never really experienced before, wanting to please.

Felix wrenches his head to the side, gasping. "Fuck, you're good at that." 

Stubbs feels warm at the praise. He sucks kisses into the side of Felix's jaw, bringing up bruises that he hopes Felix won't pen away. Feels possessiveness welling up inside him, a desire for people to know that Felix is taken care of, that they should stay away. Felix pants as he does it, whining that they'll show, but never actually pushing Stubbs away to get him to stop. 

Still, Stubbs pulls back, looking more at Felix's mouth than his eyes. "I don't really give a shit," he says, honest. "Do you?" 

"No." Felix's tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip. "Guess not." 

They kiss again, over and over until they're dry humping against the counter, until Stubbs just can't take it any longer and drops to his knees with more theory in his head than practice. He gets Felix's pants undone and mouths at Felix through his underwear until the begging above him finally becomes too much for him and he has to take Felix into his mouth, learning what Felix likes as he goes along, what gets him to make the noises Stubbs likes best. 

Felix's hands slip into his hair and tug, incessant until Stubbs realizes that he's trying to tell him something. He raises to stand again, licking into Felix's mouth as Felix's cups his cheeks. He turns, kissing the fleshy rise of Felix's palms, taking Felix's middle finger into his mouth and sucking on it just as he'd done with Felix's dick.

He tucks Felix's finger into his cheek so he can speak around it. "What do you like to do?"

"Anything," Felix says, quick enough that it isn't clear to Stubbs if he hasn't thought about it at all or has been thinking about it too much. "Seriously," he adds, "whatever you want."

It's hardly helpful, given Stubbs’ inexperience. "What if what I want is to do what you want?"

Felix's breathing slows, becomes shallow. "How are you real?"

Stubbs doesn't allow himself to raise to that particular bait, though it's a near thing with how out of himself he feels. Instead, he takes in the way Felix's body is curved towards his, the strong grip of Felix's long fingers still pressed to his temples. "I think you wanna fuck me."

When Felix laughs it's a breathy thing. "Oh, is that what you think?" He pulls Stubbs back in to kiss him again, rough and quick, and it's over almost as soon as it's started. "Sounds to me like it's what you want."

Stubbs grins at him. "Sound like we agree."

He pulls Felix off the counter and they stumble into the bedroom, too-far even with it being just to the right of the kitchen and down a short hallway. Stubbs shoulders most of Felix's weight, half-carrying him in his haste to get to a flat surface. It's satisfying to drop Felix down on the mattress, relishing the appreciative haze that courses through him at the look of Felix's pupils dilated, wide-eyed with wonder, before Stubbs follows him down. 

They get undressed laying on their sides, removing shirts and pants, kicking underwear down their legs. Felix finishes first and crawls on top of Stubbs' body, settling between his thighs and reaching to palm the thick muscle of his ass. The air is muggy between their faces as they pant together. 

"Do you do this a lot?"

Stubbs doesn't want to answer that, and so he doesn't. "I'm good for it," he promises, and then rolls onto his side between Felix's thighs, resting his head on Felix's right bicep. It must be enough, because he can feel the mattress dip as Felix reaches for something to the side of the bed. 

Slick, warm fingers slide between his legs and circle the rim of him before going inside. Felix's hands are large, steady things, and the right one holds Stubbs' knee up to give him better access while the left works on driving Stubbs mad from the inside.

Felix slides inside him eventually, and Stubbs has to reach down between his legs, masturbating with how good it all feels, in ways he never could have imagined. 

"You feel so good." At first Stubbs thinks it's him who says it, but then he realizes it's Felix, speaking right into his ear, saying all the things Stubbs wishes he instinctively knew to, sounding so much like his own thoughts that Stubbs’d been confused with it. He lets go of Stubbs’ knee and uses his hand to rub the palm over Stubbs’ dick, stimulating as Stubbs shifts his grip to focus on the shaft, the two of them working him over together, all while Felix keeps up a steady thrust with his hips. 

A noise gets caught in Stubbs' throat and it makes Felix laugh, hot and humid at his ear, low and sounding too much like Stubbs' own. It’s getting harder, to keep them apart in his mind. "Hell yeah," Felix says, or maybe it’s him, reacting to the feeling of Felix dragging his hand up Stubbs' groin, pressing into his abdomen. "I can't get over how perfect you are."

"Stop," Stubbs says, but his body reacts with another instinct he hadn't known he possessed, clinching down around Felix's dick at the words, drawing a gasp from them both. 

"Fuck off," Felix laughs, thrusts still keeping a perfect rhythm, as if he'd been made for it. "You tease me all the goddamn time." Felix's hand movers further north, squeezing Stubbs' chest, pinching his nipples. Stubbs is aware of the rapid beating of Felix's heart at his back, the way it speeds up even further at Stubbs' moan, the more aggressive tilt of his thrusts when those moans turn into groans of discontent when Felix's hand slides back down, grabbing Stubbs' thigh, pulling, until they're rolling, Stubbs laying on top of Felix as Felix fights beneath him. 

"Jesus, you're heavy." He doesn't seem at all concerned by it. The sound of his breathing shallows, and Stubbs can feel the effort of it each time Felix's chest expands under his back, the slight lift he experiences whenever Felix exhales. The change in position has freed both of Felix's hands and he puts them to good use, gripping either of Stubbs' thighs and pulling them until Stubbs' feet are pressed to the mattress, allowing Felix to get his own feet under him, leverage enough to pound up into Stubbs from below. 

One of Felix's hands comes to cradle Stubbs' jaw, long index finger sliding between Stubbs' lips and into his mouth. Stubbs bites on it as he comes, disappearing into some previously unknown place within the confines of his mind, body blissed out as he waits for Felix to follow him into orgasm. 

He comes back to himself with the feeling of Felix stroking his fingers against his side from where he’s still half-sprawled across him, tracing over what feels like scratches, bruises. Stubbs snorts when he realizes the touches are more apologetic than anything else. "Don't worry about it," Stubbs says, not bothering to keep the pleased undercurrent from his tone at the sensation of Felix's hands on him. "I get beat up on the job every day; nobody's gonna blink.”Tipping his head to the side, he looks at Felix down the length of his nose. Even from this hangle, he can see the mess he made of the man’s neck. "Now _you_ ," Stubbs says. 

Felix smiles, suddenly shy again, after all that. "I don't mind."

Stubbs finds that he isn't all that keen on the idea of all of Delos knowing that Felix gets like this in bed, especially with the types that are attracted to their line of work. 

He has no idea how to express this. What it means. 

Felix's stomach makes a noise. "Ah," he says. "I guess it's time we actually did the actual dinner part of this dinner date." 

Stubbs smiles. "Sure." It must sound more sarcastic than he meant, because of Felix groans and shoves him fully onto the mattress, getting up from bed.

—

Ford keeps Stubbs around to see the bigger picture, and most days his job is equal parts knowing when to keep his nose out of things just as much as it is him interceding. To decide which potential crises are the sort he should bring to Ford's attention, and which are the ones he can handle on his own.

Stubbs finds himself getting bored more and more often, another first for him, but he's finally come to expect the new emotions that he's been developing. He tabs through the security feeds until he finds the one directed at Felix's station, knowing that it's almost time for him to be done for the day.

He watches, transfixed, as Felix trial and errors his way into bringing a bird back to life, fingers tapping away at a behavior tablet, wonder on his face as it flits about the room. It’s his preoccupied fascination with Felix’s expressions that serve as his excuse for why he hadn't noticed the Madam activating herself on the gurney until Felix himself had. 

It's his call to make, and he decides to keep it to himself. There are too many variables and not enough ways that he can spin it without Ford asking questions that don't matter, too many opportunities for him not to see what is happening. 

Stubbs sees the big picture. Arnold’s vision.

So he keeps it to himself. 

A week later, Ford tells him what he has planned for the upcoming storyline. For the Park. For him. 

Stubbs can't help but smirk to himself as he listens. Life finds a way, he supposes. 

His instincts haven't failed him yet.


End file.
